


Unexpected Beauties of Life

by xxwrote_my_way_outxx



Category: Natasha Pierre and the Great Comet of 1812 - Malloy
Genre: Danatole, Fluff, It's A Complicated Russian Romance, M/M, Teen Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-25
Updated: 2017-08-25
Packaged: 2018-12-19 16:31:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11901678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xxwrote_my_way_outxx/pseuds/xxwrote_my_way_outxx
Summary: .And sometimes, things would go unplanned, like the chance of a meteor or something grand like a comet, something so terrifying and wondrous, making everyone feel small yet delighted at the most unexpected of beauties.And sometimes, the most unexpected things were the most lovely.The comet that ignited Dolokhov’s sky was the blazing ball of blonde known as Anatole Kuragin.





	Unexpected Beauties of Life

The stars were always beautiful when they were freckled across the sky, painted beautifully as if the Gods had decided that each fleck was destined to be in one singular space. One space that no one could muster, the expanse of navy, violet, and raven hues that marbled the heavens being something unknown and so marveled by the likes of man. And sometimes, things would go unplanned, like the chance of a meteor or something grand like a comet, something so terrifying and wondrous, making everyone feel small yet delighted at the most unexpected of beauties.   
And sometimes, the most unexpected things were the most lovely. 

The comet that ignited Dolokhov’s sky was the blazing ball of blonde known as Anatole Kuragin. 

He was unexpected in the way that Anatole never once had a defining characteristic. One day, he could be the happiest man who graced the earth and went through life swimmingly. The next, he would be temperamental such as a tempest that swept through the trees and shook the leaves to their stem, shaking them off of trees. And some days, it would be like this, where Anatole was dangerously close to him. 

So close. 

His head, resting softly on Dolokhov’s forearm as they gazed up at night sky, embracing the sight of the flickering stars, small, gracious smiles lacing both of their lips. 

Anatole’s lips, for he was genuinely excited and enraptured by the brightness of the stars. 

Dolokhov’s, because he swore he could see his future in the other’s star-dazzled eyes.

And Anatole prattled on about the very miniscule and fickle things in life that he would wish for if he had wished on a shooting star, such as money, or better tea, or possibly better furnishings for the house. He had his reasoning of course, and of course, Dolokhov listened like the obedient friend that he was, always doting on every single one of Anatole’s needs. Anatole didn't understand the trifles of war or famine since he was healthy. Dolokhov was to leave for the war soon, so he found luxury in every little interaction he had, even the ones where Anatole whined about how he didn't have enough luxuries.

Though it was hard to focus on that when he swore he felt Anatole shift just the slightest bit closer each time he started a new sentence.   
Perhaps it was his nerves playing tricks on him? 

The nerves of an older teenager was certainly something confusing of sorts, especially when the teenager worried about it was nineteen and the one he was so fond of was sixteen and blissfully talking about the minor things in life he wished to enhance, and the older was thinking about how much he just wanted the younger. 

Love was such an odd yet extravagant thing. 

It made one feel overjoyed yet sick at the same time. Overjoyed with compassion, feeling, joy, and the craving for intimacy. Sick with the thought that one could hurt their lover, or that they couldn’t aid them or satisfy their needs. Butterflies of self-doubt, self-loathing, and self-adoration often toyed with those who dared tempt the emotion that most longed for, and Dolokhov was like most in the fact that it was the feeling that he desired most.   
As Anatole continued to talk about moot things, like furnishings. 

Silly thoughts sometimes come to one’s head when they are in love, like wondering why they couldn’t perhaps be a chair or a dining room set that their interest’s mind seemed to always be on, even in the face of a question where any of his dreams could come true? 

The answer was because Anatole did see Dolokhov as a furnishing. Not as actual furniture, but something nice to come home to and rest his body in and feel like he fit just write. He viewed him like an old fur jacket where the sleeves were too big and he couldn’t find him but there was still solace. Oh how the blonde wished that it were Dolokhov’s arms wrapped around him snuggly instead of the arms of his jacket. 

The reason why that didn’t happen was because of the way that Anatole talked about how comfortable chairs were instead of how comfortable he thought Dolokhov’s lap could be, and he talked about coats as if he didn’t want his arms, or talked about candies when he just wanted to taste his lips that he had shooting small glances at for the past few minutes. 

He was too focused on things that were magical like stars, cosmos, and the moon, when he could be looking at someone who held something much more magical. 

And he finally ceased his babbling. 

“What would you wish for if you were to see a great star?” 

 

And Dolokhov knew exactly what he wanted, though he would never have the nerve to ask for what he wanted. Dolokhov was not a man of asking, or doing, because he had too much pride in himself to be laughed at or scoffed at by a younger man and have his emotions toyed with.   
Even though Dolokhov was toying with his own emotions.   
“I suppose…” 

He swore he felt Anatole move closer again, though he knew his mind was probably playing tricks on him. 

And Anatole edged himself near the other’s face once more and watched as the oblivious Dolokhov continued to ignore him.   
How could two men possibly be so dense? 

“I would wish to be satiated with my life. Just guaranteed satisfaction.” 

Dolokhov then looked at him, noticing the way that Anatole had shifted his head, and his whole body for that matter, and watched as the blonde gazed at him with his handsome and smiling eyes, and it caused his heart to flutter, the ones in his stomach starting to fade as his heart felt as if it was throbbing terribly. 

“And what would make you feel satiated, Fedya?” 

And that was probably the most curious and intelligent question that Anatole had ever asked him, or perhaps anyone else in his life. 

Dolokhov glanced at him, searching his face and noticed that Anatole was staring at him…not at him, at his lips. 

His cheeks flushed the deepest scarlet that would put half of the fancy silk sheets in the Kuragin mansion to shame. 

And before he knew it, their lips had somehow met, lingering against each other in a way that wasn’t too hard but also wasn’t experimental or feathery- it was sure. Sure of desire, and sure of nervousness. Despite the lingering fear of something unknown, there was the excitement of something that could be completely inspiring. 

And Anatole decided that Dolokhov’s lips tasted like cinnamons, and that he could be satiated off of that type of candy if that meant that he got his sweets and Dolokhov. 

And Dolokhov found himself feeling…at ease. Easiness was something that never came handsomely to Dolokhov. And the palpitations in his hearts ceased when he felt the tip of Anatole’s finger trace his lips almost curiously. 

Anatole had never felt something so plush and so welcoming, and made mental note that Fedya’s lips and arms suited him much better than a chair or worn blanket would have, and they certainly supported him more and elevated his comfortability. 

Minutes went by, dazing lazily at one another before Dolokhov’s eyes for once found their way looking towards the moon. 

And their love was beautiful when it was freckled across their being, painted perfectly as if the Gods had decided that they were destined for one another. Something that could not be mustered across all of the known expanses that were treated with wonder and excitement by the likes of man. And sometimes, things would go unplanned, like the chance of a meteor or something grand like a comet, something so terrifying and wondrous, making everyone feel small yet delighted at the most unexpected of beauties.


End file.
